


#Fuckboy

by neomeruru



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dated Pop Culture References, Dubious Consent, False Identity, Implied Public Sex, Implied Sexual Content, Jealous!Noctis, M/M, Seduction, Self-Esteem Issues, Smoking, Teenage Dirtbag Ardyn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 01:00:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15498774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neomeruru/pseuds/neomeruru
Summary: It gets boring, being alive for two thousand years waiting for the chosen king. When he finally gets here, Ardyn can't resist fucking with him a little by seducing his best friend.





	#Fuckboy

**Author's Note:**

> Written originally for a three-sentence prompt on FFA, an idea that grabbed me and did not let me go. It is ridiculous and Ardyn is ridiculous and Prompto is a sad boy with terrible taste, but I wrote five thousand words so here we go.
> 
> A note on CNTW: rape-by-deception is still rape, so if the idea of someone (especially a thousand daemons in a man suit) pretending to be someone else in a sexual relationship is triggering to you, consider yourself warned! In this case, Ardyn's not impersonating any specific person, but is definitely withholding some pertinent information from Prompto, both while they're dating and later, during the events of game canon.
> 
> Beta'd by [gooseberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gooseberry)!

"You can't be serious," Noctis mutters, side-eyeing Prompto so hard from the adjacent desk Prompto thinks his face might freeze that way. "The first thing he said to the class was 'how do you do, fellow kids.'"

The new student—tall, red-headed, kind of slouchy in that punk rock kinda way—takes the empty desk near the front of the room, but not before shooting Prompto a little smile he feels right in the bottom of his stomach.

Prompto swallows hard. "Yeah, but, it's like... ironic, you know?"

—

As is tradition, they skip the period after lunch and go up to the roof. It's one of those things Noctis can just get away with—something about using the time for independent political study? Prompto doesn't actually _know_ how he doesn't get in trouble, other than being a literal actual prince.

Prompto doesn't get the same lenience, but he does it anyway. It's not like his grades matter—he's already an average Nif immigrant with a dead-end part-time job, it's not like he's going anywhere in life after high school. But he gets to spend time with Noctis, one of the rare times they're actually alone and not surrounded by other students or the watchful eyes of the Citadel.

Today, though, they're not alone.

Nydra—the new kid, though Prompto had to get his name from another student who had been paying more attention—turns to look at them as the big steel door clunks against the doorstop. His eyes go straight to Prompto, coldly indifferent until that same slow smile from homeroom slides across his face.

Noctis makes a little noise of disgust. "Great."

Prompto elbows him right in his royal side. "Hey man, be nice. He's new."

"He's fuckin' weird, is what he is."

Prompto shushes him as Nydra stands up from the shadow of the air vent and stretches—Gods, what is he, like six foot already? He's like eighty percent arms and legs, and the rest is ponytail and rumpled uniform jacket. There's a guitar resting against the vent, shiny black with huge flame decals on it. As Prompto watches, Nydra pops his cigarette—holy shit?—back in his mouth and motions them over, picking up the guitar.

"Hey," Prompto greets him as they get closer. "It's Nydra, right?" he asks, as if he hadn't immediately stored that information in his reptile brain, next to 'optimal two-man Kings Knight strategy' and 'easy high-protein low-carb meal plans under 2000 calories.'

"Hey," Nydra replies, and Prompto opens his mouth to continue the conversation before realizing that's it, that's all he knows about talking to cute guys. A weak little croak comes out instead, which he covers up with a cough as he sits down. Nydra cradles the guitar in his arms and takes a drag from his cigarette, then blows out a smoke ring without breaking Prompto's gaze.

Cool.

"You're Prompto?" Nydra asks, flicking the ash end to the side. Prompto blinks a few times, waiting for the inevitable acknowledgement of Noct: _and that's Noctis, the Prince, the Prince who you're friends with, what is he like, is he seeing anyone?_ But Nydra doesn't even seem to notice Noct, who bristles with insult as he sits down a few feet away.

Prompto laughs nervously. "Haha, oh, um, yeah! That's me, Prompto!"

Nydra puts the cigarette between his lips again but doesn't inhale, just reaches down and strums a pretty little melody. Prompto doesn't actually know the word for when you play just a few notes like that—a chord? He doesn't want to call it the wrong thing, so he just keeps his mouth shut and smiles appreciatively.

"That's a handsome name," Nydra says eventually, like he just had to get that little bit of music out first. Like he'd really thought about Prompto's name before answering. "It made me think of that."

"Whoa," Prompto breathes, ignoring Noctis's soft snort. "Uh… thanks."

The ember on the end of Nydra's cigarette glows and he takes it out, opening his mouth around a wiggling sphere of cigarette smoke that lingers for a few seconds before he exhales. "Don't mention it," he says. He holds the cigarette out to Prompto, filter first. "Do you smoke?"

"No, he doesn't smoke," Noctis interjects. "It's a stupid habit."

It's not like Prompto was _actually_ going to accept, but like, it still stings a little. He almost takes the cigarette in protest, but Nydra just smirks and stubs it out on the concrete, leaving a little black smudge. He tucks the remainder behind his ear. "Yeah, well," he says, turning his attention back to the guitar, "that's just, like, your opinion, man."

Noctis makes a face like he's just bit into a lemon, but Nydra doesn't seem to care at all. He just spreads his long-fingered hands on the strings and strums idly, plucking the first few notes of some older pop songs Prompto knows, and some he doesn't recognize at all. One he plays for a bit almost sounds like the world music for Solheim Warriors 8, but way better.

Prompto watches in rapt attention for what must be fifteen, twenty minutes. The sun beats down around them, cocooned in the cool shadow of the air vent. Just them, the music, the occasional flash of Nydra's rings as they catch the light, and the call of the crows. Every so often, Nydra looks up from playing and catches Prompto's eye, and they share a little smile that makes something in Prompto flutter.

It's not that Prompto's lonely. He has friends—well, he has Noctis, and Noctis is really an _awful_ lot of friend for one person—and his parents love him, even if they're not around much, and he's close with some girls in their class even if they don't like him _like that_. He's even got some regulars at work he likes. And not everyone can say they've been entrusted a special sidequest by a former princess.

So it's not like he's desperate or anything. But there's still something that kind of flickers to life when Nydra looks at him, like, no one's ever looked at Prompto quite like _that_ before. Not like Prompto was interesting for some reason other than what he could do for them. It does something to him that Prompto doesn't understand, but it feels… good. Powerful.

Eventually, Nydra's playing comes to an end and he stops to stretch his fingers. And, well, if Prompto watches his hands, that's his business.

"You're an excellent audience," Nydra says. His eyes are half-closed, like he's fallen under the same laconic spell he cast over the rooftop. "I enjoyed that very much, Prompto."

Prompto's mouth is dry when he tries to swallow. "Y-yeah, that was awesome. Thanks for playing for me. Er, us."

"The pleasure was mine, I assure you," Nydra murmurs, tipping his head to the side to pin Prompto with a considering gaze. His eyes drop lower, away from Prompto's eyes to somewhere near his mouth, and Prompto laughs self-consciously, touching his own lips with his fingers.

Feeling uncomfortably seen—but, like, uncomfortable in the way that's really fun, like being at the top of a rollercoaster—Prompto casts around for something, _anything_ to talk about that's not the slow inevitability of how much he wants Nydra's mouth on his. Salvation comes in the form of Nydra brushing his hair back, revealing a glint in his earlobe. "Whoa, you have an earring?"

Nydra tilts his head to the side farther, parting his shaggy hair so Prompto can see the rings in the lobe. "Three, actually. One's in the cartilage." He shakes out his hair and fixes Prompto with a secretive grin. "And they're not the only ones."

"What, really?"

Nydra looks to the side as if expecting someone to come around the corner, but there's only Noct, who's given up on the conversation and is leaning against the vent with his eyes closed. Nydra leans in and opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue to reveal a shiny silver barbell right in the middle. He does some weird wiggle with his tongue and the barbell pokes up, then he closes his mouth around it and runs the ball along the seam of his lips.

It's not the first time Prompto's seen a tongue piercing, but it's the first one he's seen in _person_. Isn't the whole thing with tongue piercings that they feel good when you go down on someone? He's pretty sure he's read that. Because now he's thinking about it, and from the way Nydra watches him with a sort of… sexy amusement, it's kind of obvious.

"I have more," Nydra murmurs. "I just can't show them to you here."

Somewhere behind Prompto, Noctis lets out a small _ugh_.

Prompto clears his throat and tugs at his collar, feeling his blush heat up all the way down to his chest. "That's… that's real cool, man. Your old school must have been a lot more, uh, lenient. Aren't you worried about getting in trouble?"

Nydra shrugs slowly with one shoulder, looking away sadly. "I'm used to it," he sighs. "They already don't like me here... because I'm Niflheimr."

It feels like Prompto's heart immediately shoots up into his throat. "You're—wait, you're a—?" He looks to Noctis for support, but he's already crossed his arms in addition to closing his eyes, dripping with disinterest. Prompto swallows and turns back to Nydra. "I mean, that's cool. That's cool. That's really cool. Um, me too. I'm a Nif, I mean."

Nydra laughs, but, like, not _really_ laughs; his mouth kind of does this twist and he goes _hmmph_ , then he reaches out and he's—wow, he's touching Prompto's blonde hair, tucking a piece of it behind Prompto's ear. "Obviously," he murmurs, leaning in. His eyes are—yeah, his green eyes are actually kind of gold, this close, and just… really big, and really pretty, and deep.

They can't be more than a foot apart when there's a sharp jab in Prompto's side. Nydra's eyes narrow as Prompto jumps and wheels around to glare at Noctis.

"Let's go," Noctis orders, getting to his feet. He dusts off the back of his slacks and stares down his nose at Prompto and Nydra. "Period's almost over."

"Oh, yes," Nydra drawls, "We mustn't make teacher angry with us."

Noctis scowls, and Prompto can't help it: he bursts out laughing, which only makes the scowl worse. Even Nydra gets in on it, which is kind of a treat; a real laugh after all those quiet, smiling _hmmphs_. At least, Prompto thinks so until he feels a warm hand on his shoulder, and it's even _better_ because Nydra is _touching_ him while they're laughing, like they're old friends, like he doesn't notice how desperately uncool Prompto is in comparison.

"Fine," Noctis mutters when their laughter dies down to a few giggles, "stay here and sing Oasis—"

"—it was Green Day, but continue—"

"—or whatever all day, I don't care," Noctis spits out, then turns to go. Prompto scampers to his feet immediately, all thought of tongue piercings and hot redheads banished from his mind as he jogs to catch up with Noctis as he slips inside the stairwell.

"Hey, man, it's just a joke, I'm sorry," Prompto apologizes, "I didn't mean to laugh at you."

Noctis stares at him in the gloom of the stairwell, his eyes glinting with suspicion. "Tch," he scoffs, and kicks the doorstop. The door closes with a bang, plunging them into darkness as their eyes adjust to the dim light, and trapping Nydra outside.

"Wow," Prompto says, drawing it out. "Kind of uncalled for, don't you think?"

He can just barely see Noctis shrug. "Don't care," he says. "He got up there, he can get down."

"Yeah, but, he got up there via the _door_ ," Prompto retorts, reaching for the doorknob.

Noctis grabs him by the wrist and holds him, making Prompto look back. Even in the dark he swears he can see the reflection of some kind of light in Noctis's eyes, challenging him to choose Nydra over his best friend.

It actually—it actually takes Prompto a few seconds to decide to do the right thing, which makes him feel pretty shitty, but he does eventually go for the doorknob again. "Don't be a jerk," he says softly, pushing the doorstop back into place with his foot. "Just because he's different doesn't mean you can…"

He trails off, trying to find the right words. Noctis is quiet for a bit, staring like Prompto like he expects him to, like, apologize for having real human empathy or something, then just turns and slumps down the stairs, hands in his pockets.

Prompto sighs and pops his head out the door one more time when Noctis is gone, hoping to at least say goodbye to Nydra. But, just sticking his head out, he can't see him; Prompto squints into the heat mirage but Nydra must have gone around the other side of the air vent, because he's nowhere to be seen.

"Huh, weird," Prompto mutters. He checks to make sure the door won't close behind him and follows Noctis down the stairs.

—

Nydra's back in his seat for the last period of the day, and doesn't turn to look at Prompto at all despite how Prompto cranes his neck to see if he is. Noctis seems extra distracted as well, surreptitiously texting Prompto under his desk with weird emojis and generally being more clingy than usual.

The next time he actually sees Nydra is kind of a fluke. He's walking Noctis to his ride, kind of lingering a bit because sometimes if he waits around, Noctis can strongarm Ignis into letting him come over to "study."

No such luck today, though. Ignis just pushes his glasses up his nose when he sees Prompto, catching the high afternoon sun. "I'm afraid I will have to stop you before the questioning begins, Highness; your father has requested your presence for dinner, after which you have a suit fitting for the Aid and Restoration Charity Gala. Mr. Argentum will have to find his own way home today."

Noctis looks like he's about to argue, but Prompto heads it off by slapping him on the back. "It's okay! I got a ton of homework too, man. I'll see you tomorrow!"

Ignis graces him with a small nod as Noctis stalks around the car and gets in, and Prompto responds with a big grin and a thumbs-up. No sense antagonizing Noct's handlers; he's learned it's better to be the convenient friend who doesn't need a lot of watering, like a cactus. They get away with a lot more together when no one sees him as a threat to Noctis's kingly future.

He waves as the town car slides gracefully into traffic, then shoves his hands in his pockets and turns to start walking home. It's a bit of a trek; he worked hard and tested into this school to be able to hang around Noctis, but he actually lives pretty far and the train is hell this time of day. It didn't bother him as much before, but now that it's even odds that he gets a ride sometimes? It sucks.

He's thinking about going to an internet cafe and seeing how long he can use their wifi without being told he has to buy something when he turns the corner and there's—wow—there's a motorbike, classic red rocket, with a rider in black studded leathers looking at his phone while the bike purrs underneath him.

Prompto stops in his tracks, admiring the scene, long enough for the rider to notice and look up. The visor of his helmet is flipped up, and Prompto spots the crinkle of greeny-gold eyes underneath before the rider jolts in recognition and whips off the helmet.

Nydra's red hair falls out of the helmet in a beautiful cascade, bouncing from side to side as if in slow motion as he shakes it out. Out of the ponytail it's wavy as hell, all falling to one side as he tips his head to smile at Prompto.

"Guh," Prompto greets him, eloquently.

Nydra laughs, one of those real ones that sends a shiver down Prompto's spine. "Hello, darling. I was hoping I'd see you again."

"...motorbike?" Prompto manages.

Nydra looks down as if realizing he's straddling a motorcycle for the first time. "Oh, this? It's quite nice, isn't it."

As if beckoned, Prompto comes forward to run his fingers over the vibrating chassis. It brings him within breathing distance of Nydra again, and he can feel the other boy's eyes burn a hot trail up his body. He's close enough to hear the intake of breath before Nydra continues: "I've always had a fondness for finely-crafted machines."

Prompto's body goes cold and then hot with adrenaline—what is he _doing_?—and he slides his hand over until it bumps against Nydra's leather-clad one. Without breaking eye contact, Nydra flips his hand so their fingertips interlace. It feels like Prompto's heart's gonna beat right out of his chest.

Nydra licks his lips. Prompto watches the motion of his tongue, transfixed. "Do you want to go for a ride?" Nydra asks.

Prompto's nodding before Nydra even finishes talking. "Yeah. Yeah, I really do."

The smile that spreads across Nydra's face is slow, and sensual, and full of promises Prompto doesn't even fully understand. He almost whines when Nydra pulls himself out of their close orbit, but it's only to hand him the helmet.

Prompto turns it over in his hands; it's lighter than he thought. "Don't you need one?"

Nydra _hmmphs_. "Oh, please," he says, "you've seen the movies. Nothing bad ever happens to two teenagers on their way somewhere to kiss for the first time."

Prompto's stomach plummets, then shoots up to his throat. "Oh," he laughs, "oh, um… wow—"

Nydra just waits patiently, regarding Prompto with a tilt of his head.

Prompto clears his throat. "Wow," he says again, then giggles. "That's. That's really slick, man."

"Thank you," Nydra acknowledges.

There's not much more room left between them, but Prompto takes a breath and steps even closer anyway, steeling himself. "I'm… uh… I'm kinda impatient, so… do you think we can, you know, skip all that?"

The look of surprise in Nydra's face is worth it, even more so when it quickly turns to delight. Prompto can feel his hands come up and take him by the waist, clutching him firmly through gloves and school uniform both. He swears he can feel the heat of him, still. "Why, Prompto," Nydra breathes, "I would love to."

The helmet clatters to the ground. Prompto has to save up for three months to buy Nydra a new one, even though he swears up and down that it's fine and he doesn't need it.

Worth it.

—

"I just don't know what you see in him," Noctis grouses one day over a bottomless bucket of fries. "He's so fake."

 _He's the only one who treats_ me _like I'm a real person_ , Prompto could say, though that'd be cruel. Noctis tries, but there's some things he could never understand about Prompto's life: how he had stop playing Kings Knight last month because he went over his data during the special event, or how he has to wrap his feet in plastic bags when it rains, or how his favorite feeling is filling his lungs with fresh morning air so cold it hurts. How there's nowhere in Eos he feels more loved than when he's in Nydra's arms.

"Yeah, well," Prompto says instead, stuffing a handful of fries in his mouth. "That's just, like, your opinion, man."

" _Ugh_ ," Noctis grimaces. "You even sound like him now. Stop."

"What can I say? He has good taste," Prompto laughs, gesturing to himself, and gets another handful of fries to the face.

—

"Oh, well you can tell him I just _adore_ him, you know," is what Nydra says, later.

"He'll love that," Prompto says, sliding into Nydra's lap. "Can we fuck now, please?"

—

He forgets about his first boyfriend, in time.

Life happens. Breakups happen. They date for almost a year, long enough that it really sucks when they go their separate ways after graduation, but then there's Crownsguard training, and getting to know Ignis and Gladio better, and staying up until all hours with them and suffering their jabs whenever he gets too mopey about it. He goes out and he discovers drinking, and dancing, and he meets people, and sometimes they let him kiss 'em, which is great, and eventually the memory of Nydra fades like any memory from high school does, getting soft and nostalgic even after just a few years.

And then there's the treaty, and the betrothal, and leaving the city, and the way their whole world contracts to just the Regalia and themselves when they hear the news about the attack on Insomnia and never, ever being able to go home.

Home's always been a weird concept for Prompto—it was never Niflheim, where he was born, and his childhood home was really just a house he filled with lonely memories. The closest he ever got to home was being with his friends, and all his friends are still here, by the blessings of the Six.

So what if they're functionally homeless? Plenty of refugees in the world, and they all make it work somehow. And there's the whole sacred quest thing, and Prompto doesn't think that heroes on a sacred quest should _actually_ be considered homeless.

That's what he's thinking when he's buying toilet paper, dish soap, and tinned meat from the convenience store attached to the outpost. He goes around the side of the building to disappear them stealthily into the armiger—not a lot of non-Noctis people walking around with access to one of those, and both Gladio _and_ Ignis had warned him to keep Noct's continued aliveliness on the down-low under penalty of death—and that's when he sees it.

"No way," he mutters as he comes up to the red rocket motorbike and runs his fingers over the metal, still warm from the Leide sun. It's a little more dusty than he remembers, but there's that dent still, where Prompto had tried to ride it solo and driven both him and the bike into the side of a bus stop. "What are you doing all the way out here, girl?"

"Looking for old friends," comes an answer, which is a bit of a surprise—Prompto whips his head around, zeroing in on a figure walking out of the shadow of the convenience store.

"...Nyds?" Prompto asks, thankful he'd gotten the groceries into the armiger because he'd _definitely_ have dropped them. "What the hell, man, how've you been? _Where've_ you been?" He grabs Nydra by the forearm when he gets close and brings him in for a hug, clapping him on the back. "Did you ever make it to Niflheim?"

That was the thing: Nydra'd always wanted to go back to Niflheim, talked sometimes about going back together after high school, but by that time Prompto'd already known he wanted to join Noct's Crownguard, and that had been that.

Nydra hasn't changed that much in two years, except for a bit more stubble. It looks good on him, like the road agreed with him. He's still got that ponytail, tied back over one shoulder, and his riding leathers, still patched with the Galahd War Pigs decal right over the heart, the one Prompto'd gotten him for their five month anniversary. When he smiles, it's with the weight of almost a year of intimacy behind it, the kind that seeps under Prompto's skin like it never left.

"I did," Nydra answers, perching on his bike. "It was good. Not what I thought it'd be, after all that time." He crosses his arms, an uncharacteristic flicker of vulnerability passing over his face. "I left around the time it all went down with Insomnia. I'm sorry."

Prompto nods. "Yeah, thanks."

Nydra's hand comes up to rest on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. "You were the best thing in that whole godsforsaken city, Prompto. If you'd been there when it fell, I…" he trails off, looking to the side. "When I saw you with your friends in Galdin, I was relieved. I… just wanted to talk to you again."

That has Prompto paying attention. "Wait, what? You saw us?" He reaches up and grabs Nydra's hand. "Look, Nyds. No one knows about Noct, okay? They all think he's dead. Please, _please_ be cool about this, for me."

"Prompto," Nydra whispers. His hand slides from Prompto's shoulder to the side of his face. "Of course, darling. All of your secrets are safe with me. Always."

Prompto searches his eyes for any hint of a lie, but it's just—it's just Nydra, and Nydra's cool hand on the side of his face, and the sudden weight of—look, he knows it's shitty, and he knows the rest of the guys would tell him he's being ridiculous, but Prompto's been trying to keep it together as 'the one who's lost the least' in this whole terrible thing, and it's _heavy_ , okay. Nydra is here, and alive, and him touching Prompto in the back alley of a convenience store in Leide is surreal, and remarkable, and Prompto just… sags into it, supporting himself with his hands on Nydra's splayed thighs.

"What the fuck, man," Prompto sniffles, "You're always so smooth, how do you do that?"

Nydra's thumb strokes his cheekbone lightly, smearing a little bit of tears. "With you? Luck, I suppose," he murmurs. "I don't always do the right thing, though."

And with that, Nydra closes the distance between them and presses a chaste kiss to Prompto's lips. Prompto sobs and wraps his arms around Nydra, leaning in to the kiss, tumbling helplessly into wanting more, needing _more_. Nydra's hands go under his thighs and help hitch him up onto the bike, straddling Nydra's lap.

Nydra tastes like cigarettes and salt and Prompto takes it all in, greedy, shoving his tongue in Nydra's mouth. Nydra's tongue piercing clinks against his teeth—gods, yes, he missed every part of this, Nydra's hands squeezing his ass, the scrape of his stubble, the smell of leather and smoke that clings to him.

Eventually, Prompto has to reel back just to _breathe_ again, and he's utterly vindicated by how disheveled Nydra looks when he does.

"Prompto," Nydra gasps, "We mustn't."

"No, no, we abso-fuckin-lutely must," Prompto replies, between messy kisses all along Nydra's jawline. "Please, please," he begs, "I won't tell Noct, I won't tell anyone, it doesn't have to be a Thing, just… let's just…"

He breaks off into a groan as Nydra palms his dick, hard. The bike wobbles but Nydra just holds him tighter, not letting him fall.

—

The guys have taken over the caravan and the motel's kind of shit, but the wall works just fine for their needs, and then the ground after that, rutting in the dirt beside the garbage dumpster like a pair of feral cats. Prompto skins both knees and the palm of one hand and he's sure he's got bite marks all down one side and road rash up the other, but fuck it, it doesn't matter.

When they're done, they prop themselves up against the wall and just laugh as the bliss and the heat dampens the ridiculousness of _fucking on the ground behind a convenience store_ where anyone could, and probably someone _did_ , see. Nydra lights a cigarette with it cradled between his lips, but offers it to Prompto first.

Yeah, fuck that too, one more thing he never told Noctis, and probably still won't. He takes it and takes a drag, letting the headrush of the long-lost nicotine wash over him. He lets his head thunk against the wall, and when he turns to look at Nydra, Nydra's already looking back at him with a weird look on his face.

"Hey," Prompto says.

"Hey," Nydra echoes, blinking as the weird look gets replaced by a lazy smile. "Come here often?"

"First time," Prompto says as he smiles back, and hands the cigarette over.

Nydra snorts and shakes his head, then goes quiet for a few moments. Instead of smoking the cigarette, he just lets it dangle in his fingers. Prompto looks at him, letting him find whatever it is he has to say.

"Prompto—" he begins, "I'm… not a good man. I've done…" He pauses to sigh. "I've done some things I'm afraid you'll find quite unforgivable."

"Oh," Prompto says, as Nydra takes his hand and holds it between them in the dirt.

"Whatever happens in the future—perhaps the very near future—I want you to know that everything I've ever said to you has been true." Nydra squeezes his hand. "You were put on Eos for a magnificent purpose, and it has been an honour to be some small part of that."

Prompto's eyes narrow as Nydra gets to his feet, still shadowed by the slanting late-afternoon sun. "What… are you talking about? Are you okay? Did something happen in Niflheim?"

Nydra cocks his head to the side and laughs: sharp, short. "Oh, Prompto. You have no idea. But I do look forward to telling you about it, one day."

He fishes in a pocket of his leathers, pulling out something small and offering it to Prompto. When Prompto reaches out to take it, Nydra clasps his hand firmly with both of his. "Please, my dove. Take this as a show of good faith: I have done nothing, ever, with the intention of hurting _you_."

He releases Prompto's hand and backs up a few steps, keeping eye contact until he turns away and gets on his bike.

"Hey, wait—" Prompto stammers, trying to get to his feet, but by the time he gets his legs under him, Nydra's already peeling out of the lot in a cloud of dust.

"What the fuck, okay," he mutters to himself.

When the dust clears he remembers he's clutching the thing Nydra gave him, and as he turns over his palm he's greeted by the shining silver face of an Oracle ascension coin.

"Huh, weird," he says, and stuffs it in his pocket to give to Noctis later.

**Author's Note:**

> I write! I draw! I make julienne fries! Your comments literally sustain me! Join me [on Tumblr](http://chaoslindsay.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/neomeruru) for my fanart and other stuff!
> 
> This fic is remix-friendly: I give blanket permission for non-commercial translations, podfics, remixes, inspired fanfic, and fanart! Just let me know where you put it, so I can make sure others see it too!


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